


Assertion

by Im_The_Doctor (Bofur1)



Category: Transformers: Prime
Genre: Best Friends, Conspiracy, First Meetings, Gladiators, Major Character Injury, Medical Examination, Suspicious Ratchet, Uneasy Allies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-08
Updated: 2014-10-08
Packaged: 2018-02-20 09:57:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2424470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bofur1/pseuds/Im_The_Doctor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>‘Sir Megatronus, I have a very dear friend to whom I would love to introduce you. His name is Ratchet and he's studying to be a medical student. He has some encouraging views on the changes needed in the caste system. Would you allow me to bring him along to our next meeting?’</em>
</p><p>
  <em>‘Sir Orion, let us meet tomorrow. I greatly look forward to meeting this friend of yours, if he’s so dear to you as you claim.’</em>
</p><p>Ratchet didn’t know why, but the way Megatronus had so readily agreed to let Orion introduce him made him feel uneasy. It rusted him the wrong way...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Assertion

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ImGaladriel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImGaladriel/gifts).



Ratchet barely looked up as Orion burst into his quarters. “Ratchet,” the clerk gasped, his vents whirring in excitement, “you’ll never guess who I met today!”

“Mm-hmm...Just let me finish this paragraph...” Ratchet murmured, trying to refocus on the data pad in front of him. He yelped in annoyance as it was suddenly plucked out of his hands. “Orion! I _needed_ that!” he complained, rising to his feet and straining to retrieve it from his taller friend’s fingers.

“I met Megatronus!”

That made Ratchet pause. “You...what?”

“I met him,” Orion repeated eagerly. “He asked me to meet him just outside the gladiatorial rings and I did!”

Recalling how excited Orion had been when he had first begun corresponding with the warrior, Ratchet mustered up his interest. “What is he like?”

“Fierce but kind,” Orion answered after a moment of thought. “And vice-versa.”

Ratchet’s eyebrows rose at the abnormal lack of eloquence from his friend. “That’s it?”

“You’d have to see him face to face to understand,” Orion explained apologetically. His pale blue optics sparked suddenly. “Now that is an idea.”

Uneasily Ratchet lowered himself from his tiptoes, giving up the data pad. “What are you thinking?”

“Megatronus did treat me formally, but after we began talking about the caste system, he told me he’d like to meet with me again,” Orion informed him, his enthusiasm growing with each klick. “Perhaps I can take you with me and introduce you! He’d probably love your ideas on how to enhance the resources of the medical caste!”

“Orion,” Ratchet stammered, “those ideas, those are just me thinking aloud—”

“Exactly!” Orion cut in. “Those are just the sort of thoughts Megatronus encourages! Please, Ratch.” Lowering the data pad, Orion deftly typed in a sequence. Ratchet’s medical article disappeared, replaced with an open messaging system to Megatronus’ personal channel. “Let me help you—Let _him_ help you! He’s just the sort of person who can make your place in this world!”

 _Him, make_ my _place? How am I so incapable on my own?_ Ratchet demanded mentally. Pursing his lips, he nodded once and Orion beamed.

“Thank you, young friend. You won’t regret this, I promise!”

“You’ll regret it if my med article just got erased,” Ratchet warned as he went to get a pair of energon drinks from his kitchen. Orion didn’t respond, sitting on the edge of Ratchet’s berth with his optics glued to the screen and his fingers flying.

=+=+=

Ratchet stumbled for the fourth time as Orion’s grip on his hand tightened and pulled him closer to the edge of the gladiatorial arena. In the open air above their heads, the two young mechs could hear battle cries and the ragged singing of metal on metal.

“When does the fight end?” Ratchet asked as Orion pulled him toward the exit. Megatronus would meet them there when he was finished with his duel.

“I don’t know,” Orion admitted. “The duel is however long it takes for Megatronus to overcome his opponent.”

“How do you know his opponent won’t overcome _him_?” Ratchet countered.

“He won’t,” Orion denied the thought with a firm shake of his helm.

Ratchet bit back a rude response. He didn’t know why, but the way Megatronus had so readily agreed to let Orion introduce him made him feel uneasy. If his memory was accurate—and it was—Megatronus had replied to Orion’s message with: ‘ _I greatly look forward to meeting this friend of yours, if he’s so dear to you as you claim_ ’. It rusted Ratchet the wrong way.

A sudden cheer rose up from those within the arena. Ratchet moved toward the exit to peek in and see what had happened, but the guard at the door quickly clamped a hand onto his shoulder and pulled him away. “You’re not the right caste to get in, grounder.”

Ratchet bristled, shoving off the hand of the winged mech. “I’m a studying scientist, wingnut. Scientists are in the high caste.”

“Then you may want to get a repaint, apprentice,” the guard sneered, sweeping a hand toward Ratchet’s faded orange and ivory paint.

Opening his mouth to start swearing, Ratchet was surprised when large, jagged fingers clamped onto the edge of the guard’s wing. “Best respect him if you want to fly home tonight,” a low, calm voice cut in. Ratchet tore his eyes away from the stiffening guard and looked very far upward into hard blue optics.

“Megatronus,” Orion breathed in relief.

“My apologies, sir,” the guard called out nervously, not daring to look up behind him lest it strain the tight grip on his wing.

“Now to him,” Megatronus prompted. Ratchet wiped away his surprised expression and replaced it with an expectant glower. He nodded grimly in response to the guard’s swift apology and Megatronus was satisfied, releasing the guard, who took some good steps to the left.

“Orion Pax,” Megatronus greeted, warmth in his voice for the first time. “Good to see you again. And you,” he turned and held a hand out to the medic-in-training. “You must be Ratchet.”

“Yes,” Orion and Ratchet confirmed at the same time. Ratchet shook the warrior’s outstretched hand and then stiffened when he felt sticky energon pass from Megatronus’ hand to his. The blood of his opponent, Ratchet realized, curling his hand into a fist as soon as Megatronus released it.

“A pleasure to meet you,” Megatronus concluded with a thin smile. A sleek, sturdy purple mech suddenly materialized behind him. Sensing his presence, Megatronus half-turned in his direction. “Orion, since you brought an acquaintance, I felt the urge to bring one of my own. This is Soundwave.”

“Oh, Ratchet’s not just an acquaintance; he’s my best friend,” Orion was correcting as Ratchet looked Soundwave up and down. The other mech was completely comprised of sharp edges and reflective surfaces. Soundwave could have been mistaken for a mineral carving if Ratchet hadn’t seen the shimmering blue energon sluggishly sliding down his neck cables and pooling in a crevice of his armor.

“You’re injured!” Ratchet exclaimed.

“Not only is he my best friend,” Megatronus began, adopting Orion’s term, “he is my opponent on the battlefield.”

Unable to resist the sight of a wound, Ratchet stepped close enough to Soundwave that he could see his reflection in the mask he wore. “May I take a look at it?”

“I hear you’re studying to be a medic,” Megatronus sighed. “You should get out of the habit of asking a patient for permission. Some may not want treatment, but they’ll need it. Do assert yourself, _doctor_.”

Ratchet glanced at Orion with a bit of accusation. That was what Orion meant by Megatronus helping him make his place?

Despite Megatronus’ words, Soundwave nodded once wordlessly and allowed Ratchet to grab his wrist and guide him over to a nearby bench. As Ratchet examined the leaking gash near Soundwave’s throat, he noticed the masked face tilting toward Orion and Megatronus, who stood conversing animatedly nearby.

Ratchet squinted at Soundwave’s armor and opened his mouth to tell him what he needed to repair it, but that was when he felt it—a shift in Soundwave’s EM field where it connected to his. The emotion glazing his field wasn’t quite jealousy and it wasn’t quite anger. It was... _distrust_. Ratchet glanced over his shoulder and knew immediately that Soundwave was studying Orion. Ratchet’s teal optics shifted to Megatronus and he knew that despite his best efforts to conceal it, the same emotion would spill from him.

Soundwave didn’t trust Orion. Ratchet didn’t trust Megatronus. The two looked at each other as their EM fields blurred into practically one.

“If they’re going to leave us by the wayside,” Ratchet said in a low voice, “at least we have similar views on the situation.”

Soundwave remained motionless and Ratchet simply continued staring at his reflection in the dark mask. Then Soundwave spoke seven words, the ones Ratchet would remember perfectly for the rest of his long, long life:

“ _Affirmative. Medic Status: Ally. Motivation: Reconnaissance. Confirm_.”

So they would be the watchers, the ones who would trust each other _with_ but trust each other _over_ their best friends.

It would be for Orion’s own good. If Megatronus harmed a single circuit in Orion’s body trying to ‘help’ him, Ratchet was going to do just as Megatronus had so pompously instructed and assert himself. He wasn’t going to ask permission if he needed to perform any sort of _surgery_ to the relationship. Soundwave wouldn’t either.

Ratchet finally let his EM field clench around Soundwave’s, almost like a handshake, and whispered, “Confirmed.”


End file.
